


Secret Santa for Brooks

by A_Smeethy



Category: Hatfilms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9054349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Smeethy/pseuds/A_Smeethy
Summary: Merry Chrimblemas mate!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lycanthrope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycanthrope/gifts).



> Merry Chrimblemas mate!

“Trott, you can’t put the ramp there it looks ridiculous!” Smith laughed, flinging his head back into the amber painted wall with a dull thud that made the other man jump slightly. “Put it next to the shed, so you can get up onto the warehouse instead.”

 

“Actually you can’t place it there because the track isn’t aligned correctly, so you’d go off the ramp sideways and miss the building completely, thank you.” Trott mocked in the high pitched ‘nerd’ voice that he loved ever so much, probably because it annoyed Smith to no end. The grin slid off of his face as Trott spoke, sending him into a fit of laughter before he could finish the sentence.

 

Thumpf.

 

Now it was Smith’s turn to break into giggles, before grabbing another pillow and raising it threateningly, “There’s more where that came from, Scrotty,” he chuckled.

 

Thumpf.

 

“Fucking swags!”

 

The pair rushed downstairs to see what mess the third member of their bumbling trio had caused, only to round the corner at the bottom of the stairs to see Ross splayed out on the floor wrapped in what looked like long portions of Christmas tree.

 

“Bloody fucking buggering… oh, great, it's you guys.” Ross grumbled, partly to himself more than anything.

 

Trott bent down and attempted to unravel him from the mess of fake fir needles and lights, while Smith giggled to himself mischievously. “I'm gonna light up your world, mate,” before turning the plug on, and bathing Ross in amber pulses of light.

 

The giggles, however, quickly faded as he met the glare of his downed compatriot, “I'm gonna put a toothpick in your dinner.”

 

“Well, not much worse than your usual, Rossy boy!” Smith chuckled, sending the other two into raptures as well, “Alright fair point shitdick, now help me up.”

 

“Left a bit. No, my left, no that's too far, right- there!” Ross cheered, as Smith moved the Christmas tree into the right place, and for a moment all three of them were cheering.

 

Until half of the tree collapsed at least.

 

“Smith you know you're supposed to push the rods in until they click?” Trott facepalmed, “You didn't did you?”

 

Smith just stood there looking bashful, “I couldn't push hard enough…” 

 

“Common problem mate?” Ross chuckled from the sofa.

 

“Smith stop chucking your sprouts at the dartboard, one of us has to clean that!” Trott practically begged, as another green projectile slapped against the board.

 

“Sure thing, Scrott.” He grinned menacingly, using his fork as a makeshift trebuchet, and launching another sprout straight at Trott, hitting him just below the chin, bringing forth a very dark look, along with a middle finger.

 

Ross just sighed, it was like two kids.


End file.
